


The Right Thing

by illogicalArtifact



Category: untagged - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Self Harm, TW: Self Harm, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 09:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illogicalArtifact/pseuds/illogicalArtifact
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hi i wrote this in my homestuck phase please dont read this trashfire</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Nobody cried at the funeral. Nobody talked either. It was a rather silent, somber ceremony in comparison to his death. But of course, that was something better left unspoken for everyone there. 

It happened by a stabbing. It was some crazy hit and run by a strange, mystery man in a dark coat, stealing the wallet and class ring of the cooling body.

Nobody had caught the man. But supposedly, they knew who he was. It was some guy named Jack Noir, an old prison parolee. Nobody would tell Dave about the man, but the police said they'd handle it. Dave doubted this very much. The police weren't good for much nowadays, in his opinion.

Ever since Dave's comic business had picked up, there was quite a bit of money. They moved upstate, to the nicer side of Dallas. Nobody had expected such a violent crime in a nice area like that. Dave had only gotten the call when it was too late. The doctor couldn't do anything for his brother. The knife had punctured a lung. There was no going back now. And what was this all for, Dave couldn't help thinking. Just for the paper in a man's wallet? How could some sicko just take someone's big brother away like that?

John Egbert came down for the funeral. Dave really wished he could see him more often. He especially wished he didn't have to see him on such a bad occasion. But he knew John was there for him. That's what counted.

Dirk clung to Dave's arm during the burial. He didn't cry. He peered through his dark sunglasses with drooping eyes, wiping the rain droplets away when necessary. But he didn't cry. Dave held Dirk against his hip loosely, coddling him under his long jacket and protecting him from the rain. That's what a good big brother would do, right? The overcast sky rumbled, signaling a darker storm was coming. Dave sighed, biting his bottom lip. The funeral was almost over.

He'd hoped his big brother was happy, whatever happened to him in the afterlife. Dave wasn't sure where he stood with God, belief or disbelief. But he knew his brother had been a religious man, at least secretly. Dave hadn't given his brother a hard time about it as much as anything else.

He silently prayed to whatever there was to help him. He didn't think he could do this alone, taking care of himself and his little brother. His little brother was only ten for Christ's sake! How was it at all fair for him to loose both his parents and his oldest brother at such a young age? Dave knew he was fairly young too, but none of that mattered. He was supposed to worry about his brother from now on. He may only be 22, but his brother had started taking care of them right out of high school. Dave was ready to take on what he could.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are still down at the Strider house. But It seems to be dyeing down a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter two. I did this on the night before my morning performance because it was the only time I had free, so please be appreciative!  
> And thank you very much for reading.

The static buzz from the muted television whined loudly as Dave stared blindly at the ceiling, not paying attention. He gave a sigh, letting his head fall to the side as he looked at his laptop and tablet sitting on the dining room table. For a moment he wondered if he could force himself to write but soon gave up, knowing he couldn't work.

Standing up, Dave trudged into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he opened the refrigerator and grabbed the bottle of apple juice. He uncapped it and took a long drink, watching as John came around the corner. "Dave, don't drink right out of the jug!" he scolded, as if he were a teacher and Dave was a small kid. Dave replied with a roll of his eyes, screwing the lid back onto the bottle and tossing it recklessly into the fridge.

"You seem to be doing pretty well..." John said, suddenly softer. Dave looked up with crimson eyes, staring back at John. "What of it?" he replied rather coldly, a lot harsher than what he intended. "Because, grumpy-butt, I know that you don't deal with things well. Especially something like this." John murmured, scooting so he leaned against the counter next to Dave. "I've been your best friend for, what, ten years now? I think I aught to be able to tell." He elaborated, putting a warm hand against Dave's back. Dave leaned into the touch slightly.

"John..." Dave began, taking a shaking breath. "It's not gonna be something I can just get over, you know? If it were something less... destructive, maybe. But losing someone, no." he mumbled. "I can't lose anyone else. I won't be able to handle it."

John smiled bitter-sweetly, rubbing Dave's back in small, soothing circles. "I'm here." was his only reply, almost inaudible. Dave dropped his head into his hands, rubbing at his face and pushing his hair back as he straightened his back. "Thanks."

"Dave?" a small voice called from the hallway, the creak of a door accompanying it. Dave pushed away from the counter and walked into the hallway to find his little brother standing in the doorway to his room, pajamas wrinkled and hair askew.

"Hey, kid. What's going on?" Dave asked in a soft tone, kneeling down and patting down Dirk's blonde curls. "I had a bad dream. Can you please come in here and sleep in my room with me?" Dirk cried in a soft voice, his arms hugging his stuffed puppet doll tightly. Dave paused a moment, a small smile growing on his face. "Sure thing, kiddo." he said, scooping his little brother up and nodding at John.

He lay Dirk down on his bed, pulling the covers over him and kissing his forehead. He sat in the armchair by Dirk's bed and reached to switch the lamp off. "Uh-uh!" Dirk protested in a hurried whine to stop Dave. "What?" Dave inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't want it to be dark." he whispered, pulling the covers up under his nose. Dave chuckles under his breath and nodded, leaning back into the chair.

"Goodnight, Dave!"

"Goodnight, Dirk."


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid the prognosis is a bad one for this chapter.  
> Sorry, kiddies,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IN ADVANCE-  
> Oh god I am so sorry!

Entering the house, John shut the door silently behind him. He wasn't sure if Dave would still be asleep or not. He set the groceries he had bought on the kitchen floor and snuck into the hallway to check on Dave.

As he tip-toed, he heard almost inaudible sniffles coming from Daves badroom. John stood silently in the hallway, frozen in place. He didn't want to move in fear of being heard and disturbing Dave.

He watched Dave through his open doorway, eyes wide and heart heavy. Dave sat on the end of his bed, just visible through the door. He was hunched over, head in his hands and shoulders sunken. His body shook, soft sobs echoing odly against the walls.

John inched closer, being as stealthy as he could manage. When he got closer, he saw a flash of shining metal. "Oh, god... " he heard Dave whisper as he leaned back, hands shaking and fingertips covered in blood.

Eyes wide and mouth agape, John rushed foreward to see what had happened and the sight was far worse than the innitial impression. Dave had dropped a knife onto the hardwood floor, the blade landing amongst drops of blood. His pants legs were rolled up to expose his thighs which were covered with row after row of deeply set gashes, cross hatched by almost healed scars. Some cuts were fresher than others, revealing the fact this wasn't a new occurance.

"Dave!" John shouted, covering his mouth with his hand as his stomach lurched. Dave's eyes were wide, mouth trying to form words despite the obvious lack of things he could say. "John I-i... It's not, I don't-" Dave stammered, trying to pull his pants legs down over fresh and bleeding wounds, a hiss of pain escaping his lips and only succeeding to stain his pants with blood.

John yanked Dave's hands away and pulled him up, rushing him to the bathroom. He shoved Dave down into the bathtub. "Hurry, take them off." He instructed, gesturing to the pants as he stood on his tip toes to dig the first aid kit out of the cabinet. Dave carefully slipped them off with shaking hands, keeping the pants legs away from the gashes, as they still oozed blood. 

John knelt by the side of the tub, wetting down a washcloth. He set the first aid kit on the toilet lid and began to dab the drying and crusted blood away from the hurt flesh. Dave hissed and gripped onto the walls of the tub so hard his knuckles turned white. But aside from that, he gave no other protests.

John finished cleaning the wounds and pressed gause from the medical kit onto the rows of cuts, trying to stop the bleeding. "Goddamnit, Dave" he muttered as he removed the gause and uncapped the peroxide. He poured a generous amount across Dave's thighs and Dave shouted out in pain. "Sorry!" John exclaimed, dabbing the frothy byproduct away with the bloodstained washcloth. He recovered it with more gause and taped it down with medical tape.

John stopped and sat back on his heels to give a long, hard look at Dave. Dave avoided eye contact. Rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, John helped Dave satnd on wobbly legs. He shifted so his arm was around Dave's waist for support. Dave rested his head against John's shoulder, face pale and his body weak and shaky.

Setting Dave onto the couch gently, John rushed into the kitchen. Digging around in the refridgerator, he found an orange. He peeled it and poured a glass of milk, bringing it to Dave and setting them down on the coffee table in front of him. Dave looked at the orange and the milk with a weakly raised eyebrow. "Eat it and drink the milk. Back at the hospital we give patients who lose a lot of blood food and drinks with nutrients. It's not healthy if they don't get it back.

Dave shrugged, picking up the orange. He stared down at it with half lidded eyes, picking the slices apart and eating them one by one. John watched to make sure he ate all of it and drank the whole glass of milk. Both out of curiosity and horror, John couldn't help but stare at the bandaged cuts and scars on Dave's legs. The room was silent. Neither one talked, neither one looked the other in the eye.

He brought his attention back up to Dave's face when he set the glass on the table and dropped his head against the back of the couch. "Dave..." John began softly. 

"Please, tell me why."

Dave wouldn't look up at John.

"Dave..."

He shrugged, letting out a sigh and turning away slightly. "If you want to leave you can." Dave said quietly, voice small and defeated. John's eyebrows were knitted together, his frown deep. "I wouldn't do that. You know I never would." John murmured gently.

He reached up and made Dave turn to look at him. "I'm not gonna judge you, you know that." John whispered.

Dave shrugged again, avoiding eye contact. "Okay." John gave up. "You don't have to tell me right now. But I really want to help you, okay? That's what I'm here for." John reassured, rubbing Dave's back in small, soothing circles.

Dave nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, John." Dave mumbled, leaning foreward in his light-headedness and resting his head against John's shoulder. John made himself comfortable against the couch, letting Dave rest against him. He could feel Dave's head growing heavier and knew he was falling asleep. John swallowed nervously but shook off his fears for the time being and watched over Dave as he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOMEN GOMEN GOMEN


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, spontaneous chapter brought on by caffeine at two in the morning! I hope it's still logical when I reread it tomorrow.

Dave stared at the clock beside the doorway as it ticked loudly. He wasn't sure what woke him up at such an ungodly hour, but he couldn't go back to sleep for the life of him.

With a disgruntled huff, he finally sat up and pushed his bed covers back. He grabbed a pair of pants (baggy and loose, as to not disturb his bandages) and pulled them on. The door creaked quietly as he very slowly pulled it open. Making sure not to make any sound as he walked, he moved to the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker. He shifted lightly on his feet, satisfied as the sound of the hot drink began to drip into the carafe.

Something struck him in an odd way about the ambient feel of the very early morning and he turned around slowly. Taking in the sight of the living room, bathed in cool light from the moon, he caught a glimpse of his laptop in the bin under the coffee table. He felt a churning in his chest at the thought of writing something.

He filled a mug up with coffee, ignoring the loud hiss of still falling droplets hitting the heating pad, and moved to the living room. Setting the mug on the coffee table, he slid his laptop out from the bin. Dave ran his long fingers over the screen as he opened it. It had been left long unused.

He turned to the couch, and seeing there a sleeping John, he settled for sitting on the floor in front of the couch. There was a shy chime as the laptop lit up and Dave gave the tiniest smile. He opened up his old drafts of the book he had been planning before his brother had died. Biting the inside of his lip, he stared at the unfinished chapters and rough drafts and the planning webs. His fingers ghosted over the keyboard, itching to type something.

But what?

Shaking his head, he closed the laptop.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually have any notes to put but I still feel obligated to put something.  
> These note boxes look so official looking and I would feel silly to not put anything here.  
> Sorry, friends!

Dave bit the inside of his lip as he stared into the refrigerator, clearly spaced out. What better place to think than staring into the void of one's refrigerator?

John glanced at him from the corners of his eyes and took a deep breath. "Space control to Cadet Dave, come in Dave." John said with a slight chuckle, nudging his friend with his elbow. Dave turned and blinked blankly for a moment. "You okay there, man?" John inquired gently, turning back to the eggs he had been frying before.

Dave closed the 'fridge and gave John an unsure nod. With a skeptical look, John nodded back, not wanting to pressure Dave for the details. With a glance into the living room to be sure Dirk was distracted, John asked, "So, how are your legs holding up? Need new bandages?" Dave shook his head. "Nah, they're almost healed. I can actually probably take the bandages off."

Nodding in response, John scraped the eggs out of the pan. "Hey, why don't you get Dirk in here? I'm just finishing up cooking and I made enough for all of us. We should eat together." John suggested, gesturing with his head towards the dining room table. "Sure thing." Dave said as he made his way into the living room.

"Hey, little man, c'mon. John made us all breakfast." Dave said, actually sounding a little enthusiastic. Dirk slipped his hand into Dave's much bigger hand and allowed Dave to lead him to the table. Hopping up on the chair, Dirk smiled when Dave pushed his seat in for him. John sat plates piled with food on the table for them as Dave and John sat.

They were quiet as they ate. But something was a little different. It was more of a comfortable silence instead of a hard, sad silence. It seemed almost as if nothing was wrong to the three.

John's cellphone chimed as they finished up their meal and he whispered "crap!" when he checked it. "I gotta run, I'm gonna be late for work if I don't!" he called as he jumped up and grabbed his keys. "Yeah, and we gotta get you to school, kiddo." Dave hummed, standing from the table as he wiped his face with his napkin. "C'mon, let's get going"

The drive was quiet, but a little more tense than at breakfast. It seemed so fast to Dave, seeing how the world moved. Fast cars and plains and busy city streets, nothing ever stopped moving. He wondered how anyone even had the energy, much less wanted to, to go so quickly like that.

And it was just as he thought this that they arrived at Dirk's school. He parked in the lot out front and sat there with his little brother. They were silent for a moment more, but then Dirk spoke.

"I'm sad."

Dave turned slightly to look at Dirk. His expression was downcast as he peered through his top lashes at Dave. He continued to look until Dave spoke up.

"Me, too, Dirk. I'm sorry."

"But it's not your fault." Dirk said, lifting his backpack from the floorboards. He paused a moment, looking back at Dave. Then, leaning across the center console, he hugged his bigger brother tightly.

"I love you a whole lot, even if we're both really sad."

With that, he exited the car.

Dave stared at his brother's retreating figure he entered the school building. With a genuine smile, he put the car in gear, and drove home.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand cue the very beginnings of something special!  
> I hope you all enjoy tension!

Dave squinted angrily at the laptop screen, rows and rows of text taunting him. He ran a hand over his face, licked his dry lips, and continued reading through his old work with a sigh. Not far into a paragraph, he was distracted by a gentle tap on the shoulder. John stood over him, holding out a mug of coffee; black, like Dave liked it. "Thanks, man." he mumbled, glancing at the clock on the cable box. It was only a few minutes after eleven, and he normally wasn't this tired so early into the night.

He shrugged to himself slightly, taking a long drink of his coffee. The couch shifted as John sat beside him, leaning in to read over Dave's shoulder. Turning the laptop slightly so John could read a little easier, Dave leaned back the tiniest bit. John's shoulder brushed against Dave's back. It was a small, reassuring touch to Dave. His heart did a small flop.

"This is really good." John hummed, leaning back into the couch cushion. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, giving a soft sigh. Pausing, Dave stared at John lounging on the couch in such a relaxed manner. He looked so happy.

Dave shut the laptop lid and set in carefully in the bin under the coffee table. Leaning back, he made himself comfortable beside John. He could feel every inch where his arm was pressed lightly against John's.

There was something a little comforting about the touch, something Dave couldn't quite put his finger on. It was almost as if the weight settled deep in his chest lifted for a moment, just having that small area of skin touching to remind him that John was right there beside him.

As soon as he closed his eyes he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

John smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short. I'm exhausted right now and if I tried to do too much it'll end up shitty.  
> Thanks for reading this chapter! More coming soon.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing this in the ten minutes I have left of first period game design so don't expect anything great.

There was nothing but darkness wherever Dave was. He was gasping for air, his hands reaching out for some sort of comfort, but there was no purchase. Trying to scream, to call out for help, there was nothing but air that left his lips. He couldn't breathe, oh god oh god he needed air! He lashed out once more and finally, his palms came met with a solid surface.

"Dave, wake up! Hey! Calm down, it's okay!"

With a loud gasp, his eyes opened to the dim lamplight. He took a moment to catch his breath before leaning up and looking at John.

John had been holding him still, gently trying to wake him. Their hands were still on each other, but neither one cared.

"It was just a bad dream. You're okay." John murmured softly, looking reassuringly at Dave. He nodded, making sure Dave was okay, and stood to leave.

"Wait no!" Dave panicked, reaching out and grabbing hold of John's wrist. "Can you just... Stay here for a moment?"

John smiled and nodded, sitting back down.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, romance.  
> Well, at least as romantic as someone depressed can get.

The scraping of plates and forks perforated the heavy cloud of silence in the room. John and Dave alone sat at the dinner table across from each other, Dirk being at his friend's house, the dim kitchen light leaking into the dark room. Dave picked at his food, not hungry enough to eat and John gave him a strange look as he drank from a glass.

"Eat up, or you won't grow up big and strong." John said in a mock parental voice. Dave smiled slightly, glancing up at John as he took a bite before setting his silverware down. "I'm just not hungry. Sorry." he replied. Dave watched as John finished his dinner, getting up to but his dinnerware into the sink then sitting back down in the chair next to Dave.

"So I take it you're not holding out too well today?" John asked softly, placing a gentle hand on Dave's back. With a shrug, Dave looked over at John. There was just something about those big, innocent, blue eyes that made such a sense of peace wash over him. It was almost like catching your breath after being drowned.

"If you want to talk, I'm here, you know?" John asked. Dave nodded. "I'm just a little tired." he said, an obvious lie. But John only nodded understandingly.

"C'mon, how about something relaxing then? How about movie night?" John hummed, helping Dave up. He ignored the half finished dinner, guiding Dave into the living room and sitting him on the couch. "What are you in the mood for?" he asked, opening the cabinet by the television they used to store their DVDs in. "I don't really care." Dave replied blankly.

John nodded, putting int the first movie he grabbed, sitting back down on the couch next to Dave. Dave leaned against him, letting John put his arm around his shoulders.

They both fell asleep that way, curled into each other, finally feeling at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's silly of me, but I'm happy about the breath pun I got to make!


End file.
